


I Didn't Mean to do it (To Love You)

by ScentedBooks



Series: Geraskier Week Spring 2020 [5]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, But He Gets Better, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Feelings Realization, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia is Bad at Feelings, Jealousy, M/M, Mage Jaskier | Dandelion, Top Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:27:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22895638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScentedBooks/pseuds/ScentedBooks
Summary: After Jaskier walks away from another argument, Geralt follows after him only to see him in the arms of someone else.He's only a little jealous
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Geraskier Week Spring 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1634068
Comments: 4
Kudos: 368





	I Didn't Mean to do it (To Love You)

**Author's Note:**

> Day 5: Realization 
> 
> Find me on Tumblr:  
> @Scented-books
> 
> I'm also apart of a discord (18+) Server:  
> https://discord.gg/YNf6chy
> 
> Also a big thank you, to my editor/beta for this work:  
> @thevagabondboy

Geralt was breathing heavily through his nose as he made his way through the tavern in search of the mage that disappeared from his grasp at the last moment. Their argument in the forget had ended abruptly when the mage had suddenly gone quiet, and used a portal to simply leave the conversation. 

Geralt was not completely sure what he did to upset the mage, but he knew if he did not go after the man, the next time he saw him would not be within the near future. 

Jaskier was good at disappearing. 

For some reason Geralt did not want him to disappear again, like he did all those years ago now. Almost 5 in fact, since Geralt had yelled at the poor mage on the mountain, pretending that he did not feel the sorrow pouring from his body like a soured glass of ale. The ripe scent of heartbreak emitting in the air. 

But that was in the past now. 

Jaskier seemed to have a new approach. Finally using his abilities to just simply leave a conversation he did not want to have anymore, leaving Geralt to decide whether or not to chase after him. He only did these childish things when he felt that Geralt was in the wrong, and that seemed to be most of the time these days. 

Geralt refused to let him disappear again. 

As he walked through the bar, Geralt used his senses to try and find the mage. The music coming from the other side of the tavern was not coming from the lute he was oh so familiar with, an instrument that the mage used to be a _bard_ , something that Geralt still did not quite understand. 

The power he carries, the magic that makes him a _mage_. And he chooses to play in taverns and inns, like a _human_.  
It confuses Geralt, but he understands wanting to keep any small connection to the normal human world, and music is Jaskier’s outlet. 

Who’s he to judge that in a person? 

He continues to narrow down the patrons in the tavern, he is sure that one of them is his mage. The background of the portal was familiar, and he knew Jaskier would not go too far. 

Because he wanted Geralt to find him.

Like it was some game. 

A game Geralt intended to win. 

His vision narrowed down to the glimmering throat of the man in the corner of the tavern. The slim collar that sat on the mage’s throat hid the small symbol of his ancient magic from the world’s view, golden chains dangling from the matching piece told Geralt he had found exactly who he was looking for. 

In the exact opposite position, he expected him to be in. Jaskier had looked so upset when he portalled away from Geralt in the forest, and now, now the mage was pressed into the darkest corner of the candle-lit tavern. 

A large man was standing in front of the mage, his entire body pressed up against Jaskier with intent. He cannot see the man’s face, but he can see Jaskier. 

The captivating smirk shines on the mage’s too pretty face. His eyes gleam in the darkness of the corner of the room, magic flowing through his irises. The man raises one of his arms and wraps it around Jaskier’s lithe waist tightly. The tips of the man’s fingers dig into his skin. 

The sound of Jaskier’s stupid giggle makes Geralt’s teeth clench. 

A _growl_ from deep within his chest starts to form before he realizes in that moment what he’s feeling. 

_Jealousy_.

He freezes in his already stopped movement. His face is carefully blank, but his fists are clenched tightly to his sides, the realization of purpose of this feeling makes his mutant heartbeat a little quicker, and he does not think before he is stalking forward and ripping the man from his place in front of Jaskier, reminding himself not to hurt the mage on accident as the man falls to the floor, his fingers removing themselves from Jaskier’s waist. 

He turns to Jaskier, the man is standing there with wide angry eyes. A defiant pout on his lips, like Geralt just took away his newest toy. 

Geralt just ignores his expression and grabs him by the arm, a loose but firm hold to make sure the mage follows behind him.

Jaskier follows him, but not without complaining the entire time. He grips his hand on Geralt’s wrist, 

“What is the meaning of this Geralt?!” 

“Let go of me this instant!” 

“What are you even doing here?! I left because I was mad at you!”

He shoves Jaskier into a random room after they have made it up the staircase and slams the door behind him, pushing Jaskier up against the hardwood.

“What is going –” The rest of Jaskier’s sentence was muffled by the press of Geralt’s lips pressing against his own, effectively silencing the mage.

He realizes after a moment that Jaskier is not moving in the slightest, it makes Geralt think back to his frozen body downstairs when he realized his feelings for the mage. 

He backs away slowly, the anger in his body starting to leave as the moment falls from its place of triumph. They stare at each other, Jaskier’s eyes wide in the dark room. The only light coming from the window next to them as the moonlight filters into the cold space. 

Jaskier removes himself from where he was plastered against the door. His body stiff with unsure movements. Geralt takes this motion as fear and uncertainty. He feels the rejection in the depths of his body. Jaskier is asking him to leave. 

After a moment of watching the bard move around in one spot, tipping himself on each of his feet Geralt starts to walk forward and places his hands on the doorknob to make his exit. He opens the door and begins to walk out when he hears Jaskier’s voice from inside the room as he walks down the hall, 

“Where in the hell are you going?” 

He hears Jaskier stumbling against the wall and the door to the room opens wide once more, and Geralt watches Jaskier come out into the hall, his shirt completely missing from his body. 

He’d laugh if he was not feeling so shocked at his actions against the bard. 

Before, in the tavern downstairs, he had felt his jealousy and anger take over his movements. Watching as that man had tried to take what was _his_. 

But Jaskier was not really his, was he? 

Jaskier was his own person, and Geralt knew from experience that the mage could take care of himself. In the time that they spent together, Jaskier has repeatedly proven himself capable. Some are more surprising than others. 

The magic was one thing, but everytime the mage would pick up a dagger and throw it perfectly at its intended target, Geralt felt his stomach tighten.

That is probably when he should have started paying attention. 

Geralt’s attention was abruptly taken back into the the current situation when a familiar calloused hand from its years of strumming on a lute cradled the side of his face. 

Jaskier’s voice was surprisingly soft from someone who had just been basically ignored, “I said, where in the hell are you going?”

Geralt huffed, “I was -- leaving.”

Jaskier got an expression that he did not recognize on his face, before he moved his hand from his face and wrapped it around Geralt’s wrist before tugging softly, 

“C’mon, you stupid man.” 

Geralt walked back into the small room behind Jaskier and before he realized what was happening; he was being walked back closer to the bed and the top of his calf hit the edge of the mattress and Jaskier was climbing into his lap, attaching his body to Geralt’s before kissing him once more. 

They fall back on the bed, lips still intertwined. He lets Jaskier have control of the entire situation before the sneaky mage starts to move his hands down the length of Geralt’s still clothed torso. 

He flips them around and Jaskier lets out a surprised huff when Geralt ducks his head and licks a trail up Jaskier’s neck before biting at the spot behind his ear, nostrils flaring as his brows furrow, 

“Do you want this, Julian?” Geralt asks quietly in the shell of his ear, close enough to hear when the man _shivers_ underneath him. Everytime Geralt says his real name. 

Jaskier whines at the question before breathing out an unsteady, “Of _course_ i do.”

Geralt bites at his neck once more, before his hand, the one not wrapped around the lithe waist of the bard, lowers down to seek the front of his cotton pants. 

“Hm, just making sure.” and Geralt _squeezes_ loosely as he finds the outline of Jaskier’s fully hard cock. Geralt’s pupils dilate at the noise the other man makes at the sensation he _knows_ he is feeling. 

“This would be so much more enjoyable if you would take your clothes off.” Jaskier states with a shaky voice as Geralt continues to move his palm up and down the mage’s cock. 

Jaskier surges up to steal another kiss from the Witcher, it is as sudden as the one Geralt started all of this with. It takes the air out of his lungs, Jaskier’s tongue _digs_ into his mouth, proudly stating that there is no room for arguments. The man’s hands travel up under his shirt and only breaks the soul stealing kiss to tear it over Geralt’s head and throw it somewhere onto the floor. Jaskier brings their lips back together and tugs Geralt back down against him by his hair, making the Witcher grunt out in pleasure. 

He grabs the mages waist to pull them close together, and puts both of his hands into the cotton pants and slowly starts to move them down, Jaskier complies easily. His pants may have ended up by Geralt’s shirt but he does not want to stop _touching_ Jaskier long enough to check. 

Geralt feels himself thrumming with energy as a bottle is put into one of his hands. He growls into Jaskier’s mouth, and his hand, holding the bottle grips into Jaskier’s ass, _possessive_. They are not going _anywhere_ for awhile. 

He opens the bottle and drips some of the wet substance onto his fingers before circling his fingers around the space where he wants to be _buried_ inside of in the next ten minutes. 

“ _Fuck._ ”

He pushes his index finger into the lark and the man lets out a _keening_ noise and breathes through his nose roughly and Geralt leans back down with the need to _bite_ , to mark whatever skin he can get his mouth on. 

He pushes his teeth into the mages collarbone, and begins to tease a second finger. Geralt continues his teasing as bluish purple marks prominently show themselves over the man’s chest and throat. 

“Geralt! Stop _teasing_ me…” Jaskier basically whimpers out, “ _Please_ , I’m ready, just keep fucking _going_.”

He enters a second finger into the mage, making the man let out an obscene moan and Geralt growls out, “I can _smell_ every single part of you, Jaskier.” 

Jaskier’s eyes open a wild electric blue, magic flowing in his irises when Geralt presses a third finger into him, and Geralt brings his face down to suck on his hardened nipple, 

“ _Geralt!_ ” Jaskier moans out his name as he keeps pumping his fingers in and out of the mages body, the wetness of his neglected cock spurting small amounts of pre as Geralt speeds up his fingers, to _stretch_ the bard where he needs to be for Geralt to _fuck_ him, to make anyone who sees them, to _know_ , that this powerful being, this force of nature, is _his_. 

“I’m going to make you _scream_.” Geralt promises before he removes his fingers slowly from Jaskier’s shaking body lying beneath him. Their eyes make contact as Geralt positions himself, the head of his cock prodding Jaskier’s stretched hole, Geralt wastes no time before slowly entering the man, attempting not to hurt him, no matter how much he wants to _take_.

Jaskier’s hands grab into his hair and pull tightly, a little too hard but Geralt growls into the pleasure nonetheless and pushes forward until he is completely inside Jaskier. The mage’s hand shifts down and grips his neck and moans with each thrust Geralt gives him. 

Suddenly, Geralt slowly removes himself from the mage, ignoring the cry of tired outrage and flips the man over onto his stomach, lifting at his sides until he can position himself, and slide back inside him with ease, a moan escaping past Geralt’s moist lips at the new sensation. 

He watches Jaskier grip the blanket beneath him at the new angle he is positioned him in and is shaking from pleasure, completely helpless this way, under the strong grip of Geralt’s rough hands. 

Geralt nips at the bottom of his spine, and sees the small light coming from the window, it gives Geralt a perfect view of Jaskier’s pleasure in the moonlight. 

He grips at the mage’s hips _tight_ , fully aware that there will be finger indentations there tomorrow, for as long as the mage will allow them to stay. He continues his thrusts from his angle, listening to the whimpers and moans coming from the mages mouth. The man goes to shove his face in the pillow lined up against his face, and Geralt grabs his hair to prevent that, not wanting to silence his noises, 

“ _No._ Let me hear you.” 

Jaskier seems to take that as an incentive to become even louder, completely careless against the patrons just down the stairs drinking the night away.  
Geralt reaches forward and wraps his toned arms around Jaskier’s torso, repositioning them so that Jaskier is seated on his lap, still facing the wall. 

Doing all of this without removing himself from inside of Jaskier. He grabs the bard's throat, his hand covering the entire space of the kiss bruised skin and reaches down with this other hand to begin to stroke the bard once more, 

“Cum for me, _Julian._ ”

As Geralt strokes Jaskier’s cock, it pulses beneath him, and his tight hole continues to squeeze Geralt’s cock, gripping him, _threatening_ him to even think about stopping as Jaskier breathes him around the hand wrapped around his throat and cums with a shout of pleasure, shooting white ropes over his own stomach. 

Geralt does not stop. 

Jaskier whimpers weakly, as Geralt growls in his ear the base of his spine growing tighter as Jaskier grips at him weakly and Geralt continues to snap his hips repeatedly, Jaskier’s blunt nails digging into his scalp and down his neck to grasp at something to hold onto, _anything_ to try and stay in place. 

Geralt cums with a low growl, and sinks his teeth back into Jaskier’s already abused neck, still buried inside of the man’s body. 

Heavy breathing and exhausted sighs fill the small room. All Geralt can smell is the ripe stench of sex, and the scent of himself covered all over Jaskier. 

After their laying down in the bed, Jaskier laying on his stomach, head faced towards the Witcher, he hears the bard chuckle a bit before saying softly, a bright smile forming his tired features, 

“I am delighted that you finally realized how you felt? Even if it took a disgusting stranger to get you to do something.” 

Geralt’s eyebrows raise into his hairline before he turns to loom over the mage again, 

“You are such a little shit.”

Jaskier’s laugh fills the room and Geralt sends him a small smile. 

Sure did take him long enough.


End file.
